Bloody Wings
by Icya
Summary: Weiß just discovered that they are angels who left heaven to change the earth, and they are now faced with the demons who hunts them, Schwarz
1. Prologue

Bloody Wings  
I don't own any of these characters, well,at least not anyone from Weiß. This was for a fanfic challenge, and I'm sorry if I offended anyone with the whole heaven thing, really. ::Claps hands together:: Gome gome.   
Beta-reader needed, please help me!  
  
Icya  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
Four wounded Angels with lost memories would fall into the mortal world, given their wings and eternal life for a touch of human sorrow.  
  
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Four Guardian Angels were sent down to Earth long ago from the stars of Heaven to watch over the human world. These four-winged young men answered to their call and came down to the human world, but found nothing as they had expected. Sorrow, pain, hatred filled that world of mortals while happiness and love disappeared into nothing more than just a thought. The four Angles decided that they would stay, and as what God had wanted, bring justice and love back into this Sinned place. The 'mortals' did not know their existence within the land of humans, the ones that they called earthlings. Over the time of longer than forever, their memories of Heaven were forgotten and was replaced with Earth, their thoughts of Angels turned to humans. Soon, the four strongest of all Angels were forgotten by the Heaven, and by themselves.  
  
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Blood dripped from the walls of crimson, covered up the once snow white paint that had stayed for as long as anyone would remember. Little flowers of scarlet darted onto the white-gray marbled floor, like the end of a summer drizzle, filled in the cracks as the tiny rivers flowed towards the steps.   
  
A body hung on the ceiling by the neck with a thin black rope, furred rope like a bat wing. His wings were torn off, feathers covered with blood stuck onto the now red shirt, shaped the man's body. Dry blood tracked down the mans cheekbones from the two black holes where the eyes should be as the mouth hung open, showing the half cut off tongue. A golden cross struck through his lifeless body from the chest with the other end appeared through his back. He doesn't bleed any more, then again, who will if they had no more blood left to shed?  
  
More bodies lied on the marbled floor, on the ceiling, next to the columns. Blood-spattered deaths without a sound of terror, no, death touched them before the terror, but after the pain.  
  
A man with long silver hair blinked; straighten the white shirt he wore as he stepped forward towards the only one that was left. The white robe like clothe wrapped around his body as golden edges shaped the cloth, he grinned as he fingered the handle of his sword that hung on his belt. The man before him had put up a good fight, some interesting things could happen when someone knew that he would die, and yet, still fight to protect what ever it was they were trying to protect. This man would be the case.   
  
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Rashun breathed heavily, held up the sword and placed it with the tip touching the floor. Fresh blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and he felt his organs tossing and turning. That hit he took was more than he could take. He felt his fingers shaking, not from fear, but from the lost of power, in fact, holding up his sword seemed to be the only thing he could do at the moment.  
  
Midnight blue bangs feel into his tired pale green eyes, too tired that they blur on him ever now and then. His wings covered with blood, his blood, and the blood of the ones around him. Who is he? The question ran through Rashun's mind like an echo.   
  
The man standing before him smiled. "Now, about my question." He grinned. "Have you decided to answer me or not?"  
  
Rashun swallowed. His answer would mean his life, and he knew that perfectly. But, would it be right to tell him? Tell him and betray his friends? Tell him and let all the others die for nothing? "No, I have no answer." He whispered, and yet, his voice came out louder than he had expected.  
  
"Is that so?" The white haired man asked, shaking his head as strands of silver darted from one place to the other. "Then I'm sorry, I believe death would be most welcoming to you eternal-life creatures."  
  
Rashun's grip on his sword tightened.   
  
"Oh, I believe you would want to know my name before you die." The man smiled. "Oh yes, I believe you would want that. But, I think my name would frighten you, for I will hurt God."  
  
Green eyes widened. "Y. . . you're . . " Rashun's voice was stopped by a hand to the mouth, with fingers pressed harshly onto his jaw. The sword in his hands dropped to the ground as his head came in close contact with a brick wall, knocking the stars to appear in front of his eyes. He wanted to shake that hand off, but he barely had enough energy left to move.  
  
"Yes, that would be it." The silver haired man nodded. "I was wondering why no one here had known my name."  
  
"You are a sin. What are you doing here in the six Gate of Heaven?" The Angel couldn't even hear his own voice over the hand of the Fallen One, but, he had to get it out, he just had to.  
  
"Still throwing your pride at me huh?" He grinned, placed one hand onto Rashun's right wing. "I am a sin." He smiled.   
  
Sheet of black darted through the hall of the Gate. Wings, black wings deep as the color as the night.  
  
The Angel blinked, he had let a Demon into the gate, and he had failed as a Guardian.  
  
"Don't worry about the gate thing, I'm not here for that." The Demon grinned, revealing his milk white teeth with the two extra long ones. Fangs. "I would worry about yourself at the moment."  
  
Rashun felt unbearable pain on his right shoulder and felt his bone crack. Pain struck him from every direction, yet cleared his mind, made him perfectly aware of the blood that slid down his back. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming as blood filled his teeth, running down his throat. Then, the numbness came. His eyes blurred again as everything turned from images into a swirl of colors. The pain on his left shoulder jerked him from the blurs and forced him to face that. . . that Demon, once more.  
  
The silver haired 'man' licked 'its' lips, then traced 'its' tongue along 'its' teeth. "Wingless Angels are mortals, and mortals can be killed." 'Its' eyes even smiled. "Right? My dear wounded Angel?"  
  
Rashun stared at the Demon's left hand, where a pair of snow white feather wings had laid it selves. Wings that dripped with fresh blood. Wings that were stilled attached to part of a white piece of object, his shoulder bones.  
  
"Good night, Guardian." The Demon smiled and Rashun felt his jaw cracked from the force of 'its' hand. Fingers pressed down on the jaw made breathing hard, the Angel shook his head violently to escape from the torture with his hands grabbing onto the iron like grip 'it' had on him. He felt himself weakening, and with a loud snap and pain of a million needles, his jawbone shattered into millions of pieces.  
  
"Have a nice dream." 'It' drew out the sword with one hand as the Angel's body landed onto the floor with a loud thud, and struck it through his heart.  
  
Rashun felt pain as the blade sliced through his body, and then, the pain was gone. He knew that death, after so many years, had finally come for him. Hot tears burned his eyes as an image of a child appeared before his eyes. A little girl with black hair and pale blue eyes that sat on a piece of cloud while playing with her wings. She turned to him and smiled.  
  
'Cera, I'm sorry, Daddy won't be back any more.' Rashun felt his head hitting the ground with a soft sound, and darkness replaced it all.  
  
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The silver hair man pulled the sword out of his victim and placed it back to its sheath. He felt great when he stabbed his blade within that Angel's heart, it was even better than what he had expected.  
  
"Are you done yet?" A voice called out as a man with a large white suit walked out of the shadows. "We need a lot more information and have only so much time."   
  
The long silver haired man nodded and followed as two more joined him, one with a child like face, and the other with a look that could kill.  
  
The child closed his eyes. "When would we get revenge on the four Angels?" He asked as the four men walked down the stairs side by side.  
  
The other man smiled as he pushed up his glasses. "Soon Nagi, soon." 


	2. Chapter one: White Feathers

Chapter one: White feathers  
  
The sun beamed lazily onto the now fall Earth with a smile, a warm fuzzy feeling of rays tangled through the lands. Birds chirped as they flew through the sky by the packs, sparrows, cardinals, and more. Some moved to the South for the winter, while the other stayed at cool old little Tokyo.  
  
Browned grass waved with the breeze as the gentle fingers of wind touched them with her hands, brushed them patiently as she passed by.   
  
Two teenager walked on the side walk, window shopping the new dress that both wanted to by, and of course, as things never went their way, they didn't had enough money together to buy an ice cream. A mother pushed her baby cart down the street, holding the bags on her left arm. The baby boy that sat in the cart smiled as he touched the red balloon before him, giggled at the large shinny ball of air.  
  
A couple steps away from the dress shop, a man slept on the chair in front of a flower shop. His faced covered with a large magazine and his arms crossed; he was sleeping like a newborn baby. A green sweatshirt wrapped around his form, unzipped to show the white shirt underneath. Color faded blue jeans shaped his legs, made them look long and thin, but not loosing the image of power. Brown sneakers were untied, laces touched the stone paved floor, they were suppose to match his hair and eyes, of course, no one really would look at his eyes and compare them to his shoes.  
  
The man was enjoying his rest; on a day like this, no one would really come to the flower shop. Come to think of it, the flower shop was well known in the area mostly because of the four workers, namely, himself, and three others, and not the flowers. Sure, screaming girls help with the 'advertisement', but that was beside the point.  
  
The man rested his eyes and enjoyed the sunray warming up his body, feeling the heat that ran back and forth from his head, back to his legs.  
  
"KEN-KUN!!" A voice called out.  
  
Ken sat up without much thinking and saw a young blonde boy before him as the magazine slipped from his face and down to his lap. "Oh hi Omi, what's going on? How's the delivery?"  
  
The blonde knotted his eyes brows as he dusted his white shirt with a large red stripe that ran horizontal from it. The cloth he wore seemed to be covered with mud, apparently that the boy had a little trouble running away from the girls again. "The delivery went fine." He said as he watched his tennis shoes, which seemed to be untied. Ken smiled at his words. "But, what are you doing?"  
  
The brown haired man blinked as he picked up the magazine with one hand and fanned himself with it. "Sleeping, wha ya think I was doing?"  
  
"That's not what I meant!" Omi explained and bent down to his knees, he held up the laces and started to tie them. "What I mean is that you're suppose to be looking over the shop, and not sleeping."  
  
Ken sighed, "Omi, there is NO customers here! And none will come on a day like this! And besides, it's Yoji's turn to look over the shop, but the man ran out saying he had a date."  
  
Omi shook his head and took a deep breath, then exhaled it loudly as he walked back into the shop. "Well, I'm gonna go and fix the next order, you just stay here. Okay? And you would want to tie those shoe laces." The little boy watched the older man's shoes and frowned a bit.  
  
Ken nodded back.  
  
"And please Ken-kun, do not fall asleep again. You're making us loose all our customers." The blonde finished his sentence.  
  
"Well, if we had any customers that is." Ken grinned as Omi shook his head and walked into the shop. As usual, the flower shop was not doing too well. It was just infested with wild screaming teenagers that never dig their pockets to buy any of the flowers here. And there's Ouka, but she's gone now.  
  
Decided that it was more fun to sleep rather than to think about Omi's dead girlfriends, Ken placed the magazine back on his face and closed his eyes. Of course, no one's gonna come.  
  
"Hello, do you have roses today?" A sweet female voice called out from a couple feet away.   
  
Ken's eyes snapped open as he hopped off the chair, not caring about the magazine that hit the ground before him. "Yes, yes we do have roses today." Barely touching the floor with one foot, he stepped toward the voice, and tripped.  
  
Landing harshly onto the cement pavement, he felt dust running into his mouth and his chest in pain, followed by the dizziness he felt in his head. "W. . . what roses. . . wou. . . would you like?" The brown haired man whispered the second after he fell. God, that didn't felt good, he felt his insides turning and wanted to throw up.  
  
"Oh my god, Ken-kun, are you okay?" That girl called out and ran up to him, she bent down to his eye level and smiled a reassuring smile. "Do you need help getting up?"  
  
Ken blinked raptly as he saw a breeze like white skirt with matching shoes, then two deep blue braids and clear ocean eyes. "A. . . Aya-chan. . ."  
  
Aya smiled as she grabbed Ken's right hand in both of her own. "Ken-kun, how can you trip on your own feet?" She asked as Ken got up with her help.  
  
The brown haired man patted his jeans and spitted out the dust in his mouth before he cursed at his shoes. Mainly, the shoelaces. "Well, it's those damn shoelaces, they're the ones that made me trip."  
  
"I told you to tie them." Omi's walked out of the flower shop; he had changed his cloth. A backwards blue cap had shaped his wild blonde hair, pinned his overly long strands back down to his cheeks. A plain blue shirt and light brown shorts made him look younger than he really was. Then again, Omi always look young. He flashed his bright smiled at the newly approached girl. "Aya-chan, Aya-kun's out, but he'll be back in a couple minutes."  
  
"Ran-niichan's not here?" The girl gave a sad expression on her face.   
  
"Sorry, but, he should be back soon." Ken answered matter-of-factly, and then turned back to Omi. "And stop calling him Aya, he had told you many times not to call him that, after our little princess is back."  
  
"Gomen Ken-kun, it's been too long and I just couldn't change it." Omi frowned a bit, and then brightened. "Manx, what are you doing here?"   
  
Ken turned.  
  
A red head stood around ten feet away from the three some, wearing a large smile on her face. As usual, she was wearing that crimson colored dress with the black shirt underneath, and the matching high heels. Ken always wondered why she wore those socks along with her heels but didn't bother to ask.  
  
"Can't a girl come and visit some time?" The woman smiled and walked closer. "Actually, the truth is that Birman's on a vacation, so I have to fill in for her." She smiled. "We have a mission."  
  
"But what about the others?" The young blonde asked.  
  
"We'll just have to do with out them, for now at least."  
  
Ken frowned. Since the red head woman's here now, he can't escape this mission, unlike Yoji and Ran. Lucky. Ken flashed a smile. "Let's talk inside."  
  
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The room was with a deep shade of gray, white walls painted looked dull without the light. Green plants near the stairs seemed to be moving as the large television flickered and the vision of a man in shadow sat there. A basement.  
  
The sofa in the middle was taken over by the two young ones, Aya and Omi, while Ken leaned against the walls near the stairs, watching the TV without much interest.  
  
Manx sat on the edge of the stairs, waiting for the order to be given.  
  
Finally, after what seemed to be forever, the TV. turned to a blank screen and shut off by itself.  
  
Omi stretched and stood up, watching the others. Aya-chan wasn't in the group, but now days, she's been in with most of the missions. Of course not killing anyone, for it would be hard to even imagine a sweet girl like her holding a katana and have the look of death in her eyes, unlike some member of the group.  
  
"So, what's this all about?" Ken stirred in the corner of the room. "I mean, we saw worst and stuff, but what is going through that guy's head? I'm going to have an amusement park of doom? I'm going to squish all those people under my giant machine, ha ha ha?"  
  
"Ken-kun, it's not as bad as the other ones, like the online rapist thing." Omi replied and Aya-chan nodded. The blonde turned the Manx, who was holding a clipboard in her arms. "Where's the address?"  
  
"Right here." Manx stood up and handed him the clipboard.  
  
Omi dug through the files, and stopped at one with the little drawing of an angel in the corner. His eyebrow twitched as he turned to Manx, who just shrugged.  
  
"What do you expect, when you're bored as me in the police department, I'm sure you'll start doodling too." The woman smiled.  
  
The little boy sighed and went back to the notes, but he just couldn't manage to take his eyes off that little picture of the angel. He studied it without noticing his own movements. The angel was a boy, he was sure of that. He had both of his wings open, five large feathers on each one. Deep shaded hair that parted in the middle, wearing. . . street clothe. . . that looked a lot like. . . Ken-kun's. In fact, that angel looked exactly like Ken-kun. Even down to the at like a klutz part. Well, the winged boy in the picture was falling over, which seemed to be quite usual with Ken.   
  
"Where's the hide out?" Aya-chan asked, standing up from where she sat.  
  
Omi snapped out of the trance he was in and flipped through the next page. "It's at 32972 Keitson Street." He whispered as he turned to the next page to find more information and found something stuck in the middle of the pages as a bookmark.  
  
A white feather.  
  
The boy blinked as he pinched the end with two fingers and held it up. "Manx? Where did you get this?"  
  
The red head walked over, glanced at the feather in Omi's hand, and shook her head. "I never knew that it was in there, I mean, it wasn't there when I had it."  
  
"Really?" The blonde asked as he studied the feather. The feather was milky white and felt soft as silk. "I don't get it. . ."  
  
"Don't get what?" Ken asked as he walked closer to the smaller boy, away from the shadows.  
  
"Nothing, it's just that it seems this feather just appeared out of nowhere." Omi answered, unable to place that sheet of white back down. Aya-chan took it away from him to study it.  
  
"These things happen, I mean, I find stuff I don't know in my closet all the time." Ken scratched his head. "I mean last week, I found two skate boards and a new soccer ball in there, along with a green shirt I never saw before."  
  
"But Ken-kun, this happens to you all the time. Two weeks before that you found an unfinished hamburger under your bed." The little boy forced a smile.  
  
"That's beside the po. . ." Before Ken could finish his sentence footsteps approached the basement stairs, all talking stopped and silence replaced it all.  
  
Manx opened her hand bag and pulled out a gun, she held it towards the stairs with her index finger on the trigger. Omi pulled out a dart from his sleeves as Ken cracked his knuckles. Aya-chan backed away, holding the information clipboard Omi had just gave her along with the feather.   
  
A man walked from the shadows and the lights turned on in the room. The foursome in the basement stared wildly at the newly approached figure.   
  
Yoji.  
  
Omi sighed.   
  
Yoji looked tired. His deep brown coat looked a bit messed up, the white shirt underneath was stained with light pink, wine, Omi had guessed. Black slacks matched his hair, along with deep brown dress shoes.  
  
He looked at everyone underneath his deep colored glasses. "Um. . . hello."  
  
"Yoji!" Ken breathed, "don't do that!! You just scared the crap out of all of us!"  
  
"Sorry, but I do live here you know." The tallest one answered.  
  
"Yoji-kun, I thought you were gonna be out late. . ." Omi blinked, then turned back to Aya-chan and took the clipboard from her hands.  
  
"Well, I was gonna be late, but tha girl had an emergency and had to leave." The black haired man answered.  
  
Omi frowned. "In other words, she kicked you out."   
  
Yoji's face color changed to a shade of pink. Manx smiled as Aya-chan giggled. Ken held onto his stomach, laughing. Then, the tall man's face turned back to normal along with his sly smile. He pushed his sunglasses up with one finger and inched towards the red headed woman. "Manx, what are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm not here to see you." Manx hid her smile. "There's a mission."  
  
"Do you need my protection?" Yoji asked, placing a hand onto the woman's shoulder.  
  
The red head took a step forward and Yoji's arm fell away from her shoulders. "Any ways, are you all in?"  
  
"Hey, Ay. . . I mean Ran-kun's not here yet." Omi said, turning his head to the top of the stairs, hoping to see Ran's figure appearing from the shadows.  
  
"Hey! You found one too?" Omi turned as Yoji smiled at Aya-chan, who was still standing near the wall.   
  
"Found what?" Ken asked, smiling.  
  
"A white feather." Yoji said as he reached in his jacket pocket, and pulled out another snow white feather. Exactly the same as the one Aya-chan was holding.  
  
Omi blinked, then shook his head. What's with feathers today? He didn't bother to think about the newfound white sheet and opened back up the clipboard, trying to find out about the number of men they would be fighting against. He stopped at the page of the drawn angel and couldn't help but smile, and then, the smiled was wiped off of his face and turned into a feeling of ice, coldness, and fear.  
  
On that sheet of paper, on the very right edge was the drawing of Ken-angel, everything else was the same. But now, one of Ken's wings only has three feathers, and the whole picture was dripping wet with a red liquid.   
  
Blood. 


End file.
